


Just Like on the Radio

by Sarahtoo



Series: One Gaudy Night [2]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6646729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahtoo/pseuds/Sarahtoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phryne seduces Archie Jones… or is it the other way ‘round? A bonus scene to Chapter six of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5767351">One Gaudy Night</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Like on the Radio

**Author's Note:**

> This one was inspired by a rewatch of Dead Air—thanks, everybody, for the idea, but especially Fire_Sign, who ~~pestered~~ encouraged me to write it. It was supposed to be PWP, but the no-plot thing kind of got away from me.

Phryne watched Jack—Archie, she reminded herself, who looked a lot like Jack, but was considerably less buttoned up—through the glass of the studio door. Handsome man. She smiled a little, her tongue coming out to touch her upper lip as she thought back to the night before, when Jack had stayed over. He’d been gone this morning before she woke—that wasn’t unusual for him, as he had to be at work considerably earlier than she generally liked to begin the day—and it had been a surprise to see him here at the radio station.

She pouted a little. He hadn’t told her about this undercover operation; he’d just been showing up on her doorstep later than usual over the past few weeks. They’d been lovers for long enough that he had a key to her house, and he would sometimes come in after she’d gone to sleep—finding him there in the morning made for a lovely start to the day. But if her cases didn’t intersect with his, she had no way to know that he wasn’t even at City South. It was only down to Dot’s friend getting murdered that she’d found out about this delightful alter ego at all.

And now, Archibald Jones was reading the news, and she could hear every word through the speaker above the door. When he switched over to an advertisement, she rolled her lips together to keep from laughing. Her smile faded slightly as she listened. His voice caressed each word of the silly ad, and something about the sound of it quickened her breath—it was as if he was caressing her at the same time.

“Dry, lifeless hair can take the fun out of your life, but you can put it back with Brylcreem. With Brylcream, a little dab’ll do ya. Watch Brylcreem put life, life, life in dry hair and fun back into your life. Brylcreem gives your hair that look the ladies love.” He paused. “And now, the weather…”

That voice! She shivered a little as she tuned out the words themselves and let his rough rumbling voice roll over her body. It slithered through her ears and downward, stroking her skin; she felt her nipples pebbling and her intimate flesh loosening and dampening with desire. Leaning back against the wall beside the door, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to wallow in the sensation of his voice caressing her. Her breathing grew shallow as she shifted her stance, squeezing her thigh muscles together to try and alleviate the aching between them. She had almost reached a climax—with no hands and no physical touches save the clenching of her thighs!—when she was interrupted.

“Miss Fisher?” She opened her eyes, and Hazel Creswick stood before her, wearing a puzzled frown. “Are you quite all right?”

“Oh, yes!” Phryne kept her voice bright. “Just… listening to Archie’s broadcast!” She smiled at Hazel, and then had a brainstorm. “I think I’ll ask him to go dancing with me,” she fibbed in a confiding whisper. “I heard his voice and I just knew that he was someone I wanted to know better.” That bit was true, if not as recent as this morning.

“I understand completely,” Hazel said with a small, slightly sad smile. “I felt the same way about my Jimmy when we met.”

Caught by her tone, Phryne couldn’t resist probing a little. “When you met? But you two seem so happy together.” She could still hear Archie’s growling tones behind her. Was he doing that on purpose? He had to realize what that voice of his would do to people.

“Oh, no, of course we are!” Hazel gave a bright smile. “Jimmy is so good to me.” At that moment, Archie finished his broadcast and a jazz record began to play. “Oh, if you’ll excuse me, Miss Fisher, I should go prepare for my next segment.”

“Of course,” Phryne replied, her attention caught by Archie stepping through the studio door. He met her gaze and his eyebrows rose slightly before he smiled at Hazel and held the door for her.

“Well, Miss Fisher,” he said as he approached Phryne, and she pulled in a quick breath, the release that had been interrupted by Hazel’s presence shooting through her. Reaching out, she gripped his arm to steady herself.

“Are you all right? Miss Fisher?”

Phryne whimpered a little, biting at her lips as she rode out the spasms.

“Oh yes, Archie,” she sighed, when the tremors passed. “I’m better than all right.” She slanted a look at him from under her lashes, willing him to understand what had just happened. He tilted his head at her, his eyebrows shooting up again and his eyes widening before a smirk shaped his lips.

“Well, then,” he said, and his voice sounded deeper and smoother to her ear—he was definitely doing it on purpose now, she thought—“if you’re all right, can I interest you in a night out?”

_Well_ , she thought, _two can play at that game._

“Absolutely,” she purred, stepping close to him and tilting her head back to meet his eyes. He looked a little shocked at her proximity. They often stood close together, but she was actually touching him this time, and his hands reflexively landed on her hips. She reached up to straighten his already straight tie. “Let’s get this evening started.” And she pressed a kiss to his lips.

He stiffened with surprise for only a moment, then seemed to realize the fiction she was after. With a sigh, he relaxed and kissed her back, opening his lips slightly to allow their tongues to touch. Before long, both of them were caught up in the kiss and oblivious to the world around them.

“Well, well, what have we here?” Clarence Ball had come out of the studio door to find them wrapped around each other. At the sound of his drawling voice, the two broke their kiss, but still holding each other, turned bleary eyes his way. The sight of his face, lip curling in speculation as he raked Phryne with his gaze, seemed to break the spell.

“I beg your pardon,” Archie said quickly, stepping away from Phryne, “that was terribly inappropriate. It’s only… well, you know how it is.”

Phryne licked her lips and sent a sidelong glance at him. “He’s irresistable, it’s true.” She stepped closer to him and wrapped her hand around his bicep. Archie looked down at her, and she noticed a smudge of lipstick on his mouth. Reaching up, she smoothed it away with her thumb. His eyes flashed at the touch of her fingers.

“Oh yes, _he’s_ the irresistable one, I can tell,” Clarence said, his voice dropping in what he obviously considered to be a seductive tone. “If he doesn’t… live up to expectations, Miss Fisher, please feel free to call on me.”

“Thank you, Mr Ball, but I don’t think that will be necessary,” she said, her upper lip curling in disdain.

The comment struck home, and his smile dropped away. With a tight-lipped nod, he pushed past them toward Jimmy’s office. Phryne looked up at Archie, who was looking down at her.

“So, Archie, shall we go?”

“Absolutely, Phryne,” he said, turning with her to set off down the hallway. She shot him a look, and he continued, his voice innocent, “Is it all right if I call you Phryne? I mean, now that we’re so close and all.” He smirked at her, and she returned it.

“Of course, darling,” she murmured. “You can call me anything you like.” His bicep tightened under her hand and his steps faltered for just a moment before smoothing out again.

“Just don’t call you late for dinner?” He quipped, and she laughed.

They left the station, “Archie” climbing into the Hispano-Suiza with a smile. On the way to the morgue, Phryne grilled him on the details of the case.

“Jack, you knew Louisa before she died, right? Did you see anything going on that made you wonder about what was going on?” Phryne glanced at him, her eyebrows raised.

“I did, though not well. She spent most of her time with the Creswicks, running errands, or scribbling in her little book.” He shook his head. “I wish I’d put the commissioner off for another hour that night. She might still be alive.”

“You can’t be sure of that, Jack! The only person at fault here is the one who killed her.” Phryne’s voice was adamant, and she reached to touch his knee.

“Hands on the wheel, Miss Fisher!” Jack barked, eyes widening as she swerved to avoid a pedestrian.

“Really, inspector,” she said with a smile, moving her hand languidly back to grip the steering wheel. “You shouldn’t startle me while I’m driving.” She glanced back at him just in time to see him roll his eyes.

After the morgue, and the discovery of a very carefully bent fork, they headed back to the studio.

“Remind me to bring you on my next break-in.” Phryne said as they headed into the main studio space. “You’re really quite useful.”

“Thank you,” he rumbled wryly, following her with his flashlight out.

Scanning the room, Phryne’s flashlight lit upon a high cabinet. With a gasp, she opened it, then climbed up onto the counter, knocking at the back walls of each cubby. Jack moved behind her, and was glad he had when her foot slipped and she nearly fell. He caught her with a hand cupping her backside.

“Sorry! I was just… trying to steady you,” he stammered.

“Steady me anytime, inspector,” she replied with a smile, and he gave her a narrow-eyed smirk, boosting her back up with a squeeze of that soft flesh and a stroke down the back of her thigh.

By the time the two of them had found the first clue as to what Louisa had been up to, put out the fire that the saboteur had started, and then chased him down the alleyway, their blood was pumping hard.

“I think we should call it a night, Miss Fisher,” Jack said, playing his flashlight up and down the alley, incriminating cigarette pack in his hand.

“All right then,” she said, sauntering closer. “Nightcap, Archie?” She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, reaching out to touch the knot of his tie.

He looked down at her, momentarily confused. Why was she calling him Archie now? Was she just twitting him on the silliness of his pseudonym, or was there another reason? Thinking back over the evening, he realized that she’d called him Archie when she’d kissed him in the hallway of the station, and then she’d called him Jack when they were doing official work. Now he was back to Archie—maybe she wanted to take Archie home for the night instead of Jack?

He tilted his head at her, considering. What would it mean to be Archie in her bed? Archie didn’t have to worry about his reputation with the Victoria Police Force; Archie could be as forward with a certain dishonorable miss as he liked, and no one would blink an eye. The smile that snuck over his face was sly.

“A nightcap would be lovely, Phryne, thank you,” Archie said.

Her delighted grin convinced him that he’d made the right choice, and he held out an arm for her to take as he turned back toward her car, tucking the evidence into his coat pocket to be handled when he was Jack Robinson again.

On the way to Wardlow, Archie was feeling playful. He sat a little closer to Phryne’s side than might be expected, and he rested a hand on her knee. He found himself wishing that she was wearing a skirt rather than her—admittedly fetching—white trousers, so that he could search out the bare flesh at the tops of her thighs. He supposed that sliding his fingers up the inside of her leg would have to do. It certainly seemed to do enough for Phryne.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, leaning closer to lay a kiss on the underside of her jaw. “I do hope that a nightcap is really just an excuse for me to come with you so late at night. That what you really want is far more than that.” His fingers on the inside her her thigh circled their way upward until they were snugged up against the crease at the top. “The things I’d like to do to you, Phryne Fisher…”

Phryne shuddered slightly at the sensations of his hand and his mouth and his _voice_ on her body. She bit her lower lip, finding herself strangely at a loss for words, and doing her best to concentrate on the road without missing a moment of this new, less careful man beside her.

As Phryne’s breathing quickened, so did her driving, but Archie didn’t care. The danger of doing this in a moving car was exhilarating, though he didn’t want to take it too far. After all, if they crashed, he’d never get a chance to follow through.

By the time Phryne pulled into her garage, her knickers were soaked, and she couldn’t wait to get Archie Jones naked in her bed.

“Come on, Archie,” she said, snagging her purse from the floorboard and sliding out of the car. His hands trailed off of her, falling to prop himself on the seat as he watched her with hot eyes. “Follow me.”

With quick movements, he climbed out of the car and came to meet her in the garage door, stepping close to draw her into a kiss. He pushed her up against the doorframe, his hands sliding around her to cup her buttocks. Phryne whimpered and wrapped her arms around his neck, loving the feeling of his hard cock pressing against her belly. His kiss was carnal, his tongue thrusting into her mouth in a mimicry of lovemaking. Phryne lifted one knee to give him room to move between her legs, and Archie cupped the back of her thigh to urge her closer. Finally, Phryne tore her mouth away from his.

“We really need to go inside, Archie,” she whispered as he looked down her body to where his other hand had traveled to cup her breast through the thin silk of her blouse. His hair was tousled from her fingers and his mouth was swollen and smeared with her lipstick. He glanced up at her as he pinched her nipple between thumb and forefinger, his hips pulsing against her where he’d notched himself between her thighs.

“But I have you right where I want you.” He licked his lips, his eyes on where his fingers manipulated her nipple.

“There’s something I need inside,” she whimpered when he dropped his head to kiss and lick at her neck. He licked a soft line up the tendon beneath her jaw and pressed another kiss to her lips before taking a step back and lowering her leg to the ground.

“Lead the way, then, darling,” he murmured.

With a glance down his body, Phryne took a deep breath. She took his hand and led him across the garden and into the kitchen. As they walked, Archie’s other hand wandered, cupping her buttocks and pressing his fingers between her thighs. She let out a soft cry at the pressure, and he withdrew his hand only to raise it to his nose.

“You’re wet,” he growled, inhaling deeply. “I need to taste you.”

“Soon, Archie,” she soothed, hands raising to remove her hat as she led him on into the dining room.

“Now,” he said, and spun her around, pushing her backward toward the table. “I want my mouth on you.”

With a gasp, Phryne capitulated, tossing her hat across the table and letting him lead her to where he wanted her. She stood quietly beside the table as he pushed off her coat, then unfastened her trousers and pushed them and her knickers down to pool at her feet.

“You won’t need these,” he commented. Grasping her waist, he lifted her up to sit on the edge of the table in front of the head seat. He ran his hands down her legs to pull her shoes and then her garments off. Seating himself in the chair, he met her eyes as he set his hands on her knees and pushed them wide, exposing her most intimate flesh.

“Just look at you,” he breathed. “All pink and pretty and so… very… wet for me.” Phryne gasped at the words.

Planting a hand on her chest between her breasts, he gently pushed her backward to lie along the table as he bent his head to feast.

“Oh god…” Phryne’s voice was thin, all of her attention on the man between her thighs. _I will never be able to sit at this table without thinking of this moment,_ she thought as he ravished her with his tongue. She writhed with the pleasure of it, her hands tunneling into his hair to keep him close. He slid the hand on her chest to cover one breast through her camisole, and he kneaded and pinched and stroked with his fingers as he did with his mouth.

_I will never be able to sit at this table without thinking of this moment,_ he thought as he thrust his tongue inside her body, then pulled it out to lap greedily at the hardened nubbin at the apex of her sex. He felt his cock grow impossibly harder at the taste of her juices and the feeling of her nipple pressing into the palm of his hand. He reveled in the scent and feel and taste of her as he worked to bring her to climax.

It didn’t take long—between the stroking of his hand between her legs in the car and the kissing in the garage, she had been on the edge already. Her keening cry as she came, shuddering, was music to his ears, especially when the sound she made was an elongated “Aaaaaaaarchieeeeeeee!”

He sat back in the chair, his hands on her thighs stroking gently as her breathing calmed. She propped herself up on her elbows to look at him, still completely clothed, reclining like a pasha.

“Thank goodness Mr Butler is a sound sleeper,” she said, panting. She dropped one foot to push softly against the crotch of his trousers, seriously tented now, and he groaned. “We’ll need to get upstairs before we can deal with _this_ , Archie,” and she rippled her toes along his hard length. “Unless you’d rather I returned that favor?”

He smiled wickedly, tilting his head to consider before shaking it slightly. He cupped his hand over the top of her foot, pressing it harder against his cock.

“Not this time, love,” he murmured, leaning closer to her. “I want to feel you come again from the inside.”

Phryne smiled her own wicked smile and dropped her feet to the ground. She bent to gather up her discarded clothing, being sure to give him a good view from behind. She knew she’d succeeded when he groaned again; she felt his hands come to rest on her buttocks, his thumbs notching between her thighs.

“Better not tempt me this way if you really want to make it upstairs, Phryne.”

She whimpered as he ran his fingertips along her sensitive flesh, then straightened to step away.

“This way, Archie,” she said, sending a coquettish glance over her shoulder before sauntering toward the stairs, her naked hips swinging with each step. He was behind her again before she’d taken the first stair, his hands resting on her waist as she climbed.

“I’m trying to decide how I want you right now,” he said softly, his voice reaching her ears in a velvet stroke.

“What about how _I_ want _you_?” She responded just as quietly.

“I’ll pick this time, you can pick next time,” he replied. “How about that?”

“Sounds fair.” She shot him a look over her shoulder again, her eyes laughing. “So what are you planning, then?”

“Well, my first thought was to push you over the side of the bed and take you from behind,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. She shuddered at the image. “Or maybe against the wall, with your long legs wrapped around my waist.”

“Both are good options,” she said, the nonchalance of the words belied by the rise in her vocal tone.

“Or perhaps bent over, as you were downstairs,” he continued quietly, moving his hands to stroke her buttocks as they took the last few stairs. “Or maybe on your back, your hips turned to one side.” He slid a hand to stroke between her thighs as she reached the top stair; she turned the corner toward her bedroom, stumbling slightly. “I suppose we’ll just have to see what happens.”

“I suppose we will,” she said as she pushed through the door of her bedroom. A lamp was burning on the bedside table, casting most of the room into shadow. She dropped her bundle of clothing to the sofa and pointed a finger at him. “You stay there. I’ll be right back.” Keeping her eyes on him as she backed away, she shuddered as he lifted the fingers he’d just stroked her with to his mouth.

“I’ll be waiting,” he said, before licking his fingers clean.

When Phryne returned two minutes later, having removed her blouse and jewelery and inserted her family planning device, he was lying across the bed, completely nude. He had one hand flung up over his head, and his other wrapped around the erection standing straight up between his thighs. Phryne crawled up onto the bed beside him, her hand moving to nudge his out of the way so that she could take over the stroking.

“So have you decided, then?” She ran her thumb over the darkened tip of his cock, reveling in the stickiness of the fluid leaking from him; bending her head she ran the flat of her tongue up and over his slit. With a hum of pleasure, he slid his hand into her hair.

“Well, I think I’ll let you continue with that for a bit,” he replied, looking down at her as she licked him again, this time starting at the base of his cock and wrapping her lips around his tip. He hissed in a breath as she pulled him in, her tongue swirling greedily. She chuckled around him and the sound vibrated up his body. Releasing him to run her mouth down his length again, she spoke softly, her breath brushing the tender flesh of his balls.

“And then what?”

“And then, I think I want you on your knees so that I can fuck you from behind.”

Phryne blew out a breath, looking up his body as she took one of his balls in her mouth, pleased to hear him moan. Archie was much more mouthy than Jack, she thought with satisfaction. She should have known that hearing explicit words in that voice would raise her arousal to desperation levels. She squeezed her thighs together as she continued to lick and suck him, feeling his legs shift restlessly as he tried to keep himself from coming.

“Fuck, yes, suck me,” he growled breathlessly. “That’s so good, Phryne… Oh, yes, there…”

He was guiding her head with both hands now, moving her to slide up and down his length; she brought her hands up to manipulate the thin skin of his balls, rolling them gently against her palm and reaching to stroke the skin behind them. He groaned something that might have been her name.

Archie managed to last a little while longer; when he felt himself getting too close to climax, he pulled her away and up so that he could cover her mouth with his. He loved the mingled flavor of her essence and his own, and he closed his eyes to savor it. Phryne threw herself into the kiss, though she was ready for him to act on his plan—she was dripping wet, and the thought of having him behind her, his hard length sliding into her body, was foremost in her mind.

Pulling away, she said, “Now what was that about fucking me?”

With a growl, Archie spun her, climbing over to curve his body along her spine. He straddled her calves, pushing them together, his hands pulling her hips up and his thumbs spreading her labia and testing to see that she was slick enough to take him.

“You’re ready for me, aren’t you,” he rumbled, and he notched the head of his cock into her passage, watching as it slid smoothly inside. He continued to push until he was seated all the way to his balls.

With her thighs tight together, the pressure of his thrust was intense; Phryne could feel every inch of him. She moaned at the delicious tension rising between her legs.

“God, that’s so good,” he groaned. Pulling slowly out, he paused with only the head inside, then pushed back in. He pulled out again. “So,” in, “fucking,” out, “good,” and he thrust in, harder this time, establishing a slow but powerful rhythm to his thrusts. When slow was no longer enough, he pulled out of her, sliding a knee between hers and pushing her legs open wide.

Phryne keened her pleasure as he braced himself and began a hard, fast rhythm of pumping. He bowed over her back, his hands coming around to cup her breasts, and she could feel the soft skin of his belly against the tops of her buttocks as his flesh slapped against hers.

“You feel amazing,” he murmured in her ear, his hips by turn pistoning and rocking warmly against her. “I can’t believe you kissed me like that at the station. Did you really come just from listening to my voice?”

Phryne nodded, breath heaving. “I imagine that I’m not the only woman who did, either,” she panted. “You have a gift, Archie.”

She reached one hand back to grip his ass, her head turning to meet his mouth with hers. He kissed her, hard; she thrust her tongue into his mouth and he sucked on it before letting go.

“What words did I use that pushed you over, I wonder,” he rumbled. “I can’t believe it was the talk about the upcoming weather patterns,” he took her earlobe between his teeth, adding in a growl, “though it’s hot and it’s getting hotter.”

He swiveled his hips, punctuating the statement with a renewed thrusting. Phryne whimpered, her whole body vibrating with pleasure. Kneeling up again, he went on, his hands on her waist to hold her in place.

“Maybe it was the news about the electric trams? Or the talk of the garden club’s fifteenth annual gala?” Arching his back over hers, he stroked a hand around her waist to dip between her legs, pressing his fingers to her clit, his hips continuing their rhythm.

Phryne’s mouth opened in a silent scream, her eyes closing—she was unable to focus on anything but the sensations of her body. His voice wound around her, every syllable seeming to brush her skin like fingertips; his actual fingertips slid in the copious moisture between her legs, pressing and pinching in a harmonious rhythm with his thrusting cock.

He pressed himself to her back, his hand on her hip sliding to fondle her breast; he tucked his chin over her shoulder, his cheek against hers. The motions of his hips slowed, becoming a strong press-and-release motion that didn’t lessen their impact at all. She felt surrounded by him, and when he spoke, his voice was little more than a murmur into her ear.

“Or maybe it was my advertisement? There’s a new one coming tomorrow, by the way: ‘This is a public service announcement from Brylcreem,’” when he began to sing, his bass rumble acted on Phryne like fingers on the strings of a harp, every motion sending multiple vibrations through her body.

“ _Brylcreem, a little dab’ll do ya_  
_Use more only if you dare_  
_But watch out, the girls will all pursue ya_  
_They’ll love to get their fingers in your hair!_ ”

The orgasm broke over her, her muscles shaking uncontrollably with release. Archie, still curled around her, gave a hoarse shout as he came too, his hips stuttering into hers. His arms tightened around her, holding them together as they rode out their pleasure.

When the tremors stopped, Archie planted a hand on the bed and slid to one side; Phryne flopped the other way so that they faced each other, their breaths coming heavily.

“Goodness, Archie, that was rather unexpected,” she said, raising a hand to his face, her fingers tracing his jawline.

“Which part? When I fucked you till you couldn’t see straight, or when it was my voice that made you come?”

“Mmm, both,” she purred, leaning forward to kiss him. “Though you know that your voice does things to me, darling.”

“It only seems fair,” he said with a chuckle, placing a hand on her hip. “When you did that Flamboyance advertisement today, I had to find a closet for a private moment of my own.”

Her delighted laughter pealed out, drawing a wider smile from him.

“Oh, Archie, I _am_ glad to have you here,” she said as he pulled the blankets up to cover them both. “Perhaps we can see each other again, even after this case has been solved?”

“I think that could be arranged.” His voice was sleepy, and he wrapped his arms around her. Archie Jones could be a useful undercover identity, Jack thought, and not just on the crime-fighting front. He smiled slightly even as his eyes closed. Perhaps another visit would be a good thing.

Phryne rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder, one hand flat against his chest and her legs twining with his. This Archie Jones was a treasure. He couldn’t supplant her Jack, of course, but he was a nice change of pace—she closed her eyes, reliving the evening’s activities with a smile. If it took a little Archie to get Jack into some mildly compromising situations, she was all for it.

And that voice! Perhaps she should mention to Hazel Creswick that Archie could sing. Her smile widened. Now _that_ would be certain to raise the station’s ratings. Just think of the fan mail he’d get from all the lonely housewives in the city. Phryne stifled a chuckle as she settled down to sleep, breathing in the scent of her lover: sweat and sex and a touch of Brylcreem. She’d never hear that jingle the same way.

**Author's Note:**

> In my research on pomade (very scientific, I assure you) I found first this [Brylcreem commercial](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o6F4GtyRfto) and then [this one](http://youtu.be/gYaqPF6gkw4), both from the 1950s; according to Wikipedia, though Brylcreem was originally created in England in 1928, the jingle wasn’t in use until it was advertised on television. I just couldn’t resist having Jack use it, though. Can’t you just hear him? So sorry, not sorry for the anachronism. I’m told that anachronism can be forgiven when used for humor. :D


End file.
